Nightcrawler and an Angel
by SomethingNice
Summary: Clara, a winged mutant meets Nightcrawler during a storm and may have finally found the acceptance she's been longing for. Chapter 10 is finally up! Thank you to those who have already reviewed and been really patient about updates. Hope you enjoy!
1. Default Chapter

Walking along the gravel path, the rain pelted against Clara's pale skin leaving small red marks where it hit her particularly hard. She drew her brown coat closer to her and quickened her pace. Upon approaching the large green doors of the chapel, she pulled the large brass handles and found the door was locked tight.

"Denying me my sanctuary are you?" Clara demanded of the doors. The wind rattled the doors in response.

She walked around the back of the chapel and saw that the window just below the roof peak was open. After looking around for possible prying eyes she chucked off her coat to reveal a pair of glowing white wings already wet from the rain. She shook off her bright feathers and flew not so gracefully against the wind. Squeezing through the window she heard a soft prayer coming from the pews. Panicking she tried to put on her coat in rafters, and fell towards the hard wooden floor. Quick to correct herself she landed on her feet just in time to fall on her backside.

"To think this is supposed to be a house of God. You think the parishioner would pay for a softer landing." She said to one in particular. The prayer she heard earlier had stopped at the sound of her intrusion. She stumbled her way to the main prayer area and gazed around at the bright stained glass windows and dark hand carved seats looking for whoever was brave enough to enter the chapel after hours. Finding no one, Clara kneeled in one of the pews to meditate.

"God thank you for giving me strength to endure another day. I know that it is your faith that guides me and helps to survive in a world that does not accept me for who I am. May I one day be able to say prayers with the rest of your people…" A loud popping noise sounded not too far from where she was praying. She looked over and saw a hooded figure holding a white rosary trying not to be noticed. Wanting to let whoever it was to prayer she walked up to the pulpit and tried to light a candle. The flame grew too close to her finger and she dropped the candle on her worn out coat and set the loose ends on fire. In a few short motions she took off her coat and smothered the flames. Suddenly realizing her exposure she turned around and tried hide he wings but it was too late. The stranger stood, staring at the sight before him.

"Please, don't tell anyone. Let me explain, just don't say anything, I'm so tired of running."

The stranger said nothing at first but took a few steps forwards like he was walking towards the blessed virgin herself. He finally stopped and said slowly as if fearing punishment for speaking, "Are you an angel?"

Clara's look of dread quickly turned into a smile and then into laughter. "I am no angel, just an ordinary girl looking for a place to dry her wings and maybe a pray a little."

"You are far from ordinary certainly."

"On the outside maybe, but in the end I want what every 'normal' person wants or needs." Clara stated with a smile still on her face.

"Very true, but how did you come across such beautiful wings?"

"I didn't really I was born with them just like a lot of other mutants are born with gifts. They are a part of who I am not matter how many homes I get thrown out of. You are the first person who hasn't run the other direction after seeing them."

"I suppose I have a reason, since…" he stopped unsure if he should continue.

Clara walked towards him turning her head to try and get glance of the face buried under the hood. "What is your name?"

The stranger relaxed and said his name was Kurt Wagner and that he was stopping in the small town because the secluded chapel. Clara introduced herself and said it was the only keeping her there so long.

"Well Kurt, unless they've added a new door since I was here yesterday, you must have come through that window too. It's quite a climb isn't it?"

Kurt raised his head high with a high sense of knowing, "I did not climb."

Clara raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms, waiting for an explanation.

In a flash of blue smoke and the same familiar popping noise she had heard earlier, Kurt was gone. Clara flew back and looked dartingly across the room. Another sound and he was now just in front of the pulpit.

"That's amazing, bit startling but still."

"I trust you'll keep my secret, as I promise to keep yours."

"No, need I have not yet seen your face, but I thank you for promising to keep mine."

"You wouldn't want to see it, you might mistake me for some sort of demon."

"Well, you mistook me for an angel and I'm certainly not one of those." Clara glided forward and stretched out her hand towards Kurt's hood.

He grabbed Clara's hand and she held his in return and squeezed gently. Kurt let go and let Clara Draw back his hood. The hood dropped back to reveal his radiant dark blue skin, elegant tattoos, bright green eyes, and shining white teeth. Clara gasped at such astounding colors. He resembled one of the elf-like princes in fairy tales she had been told as a child.

"Your beautiful, no demon could have eyes as kind as yours."

Kurt stood up and pulled his hood over his head. "You are too kind for your own good, flattery will not get you where you want. I do not need your pity." Another swirl of blue smoke and Clara was alone in the chapel once again.

"No, wait! Please?" her voice echoing of the walls was the only response she received. She looked around to see if Kurt was still there, but found only dust and candle wax. She crumpled up on the floor for several moments before gathering her strength and flying out the window. On her way home she felt hot tears streaming down her face, she wiped them away furiously in confusion and hurt. After entering her small house she collapsed on the sofa and stared at the ceiling.

The plain white ceiling was blurry through salty tears, her whole body ached like she had walked across and ocean than just back to her house. Every bone in her body felt like they had been lifted to such wonderful heights and then dropped on the rocks below. So this was rejection, just as bleak and unforgiving as the people that pretended not to notice her or whispered behind her back wherever she went.


	2. Pity is not a Virtue

For weeks after her seemingly fated meeting in chapel, Clara went back to look for any sign that either the lingering in her chest or seclusion might be eased. Each time she found nothing but dusty rafters and quiet seats. The feeling that someone was testing her faith and that time would be better spent searching for God than a shadow wavered in the back of her mind. After all God had never turned away from her or given her false hope.

Daily life was harder knowing that acceptance was out there but some how unreachable. Walking through the market the hushed comments that followed Clara through the isles were numbing rather than upsetting. The aisles emptied as she went through the store and bought things she didn't even need.

Taking the long way home, Clara heard raised voices on the other side of the river bank. She looked towards the river and saw two men from the outskirts of her town standing over what looked like a large burlap sack. The taller of the two kicked the sack and it let out a small groaning noise. Realizing what these men where doing she calmly set down her groceries and began to unbutton her coat. The two men spotted her wings and tripped their way back across the shoreline.

Clara picked up her shopping again walked towards the unconscious lump that lay in grass. She pulled back some of the cloth too see patterns of dark blue lines on elegant skin. "Kurt wake up!" she shook him roughly but only got a few groans. Leaving her things on the ground she put Kurt's slender body over her shoulder and without looking back flew back to her small house.

She laid Kurt on her sofa and pulled off his cloak to get a better look at his wounds. Nothing too serious mostly cuts and bruises. Moving her hand across the top of his head she felt a large bleeding lump. "So this is how they caught you. I don't envy what happened to you, or the headache you'll have in the morning." With the same care as handling fine china she washed and bandaged his wounds and placed an ice pack over the bump. Determined to stay up with him in case he should wake, Clara made strong tea and started reading. Despite even the strongest concerns she felt for Kurt sleep came quickly on soft cushion.

Some hours later Kurt opened his eyes to unfamiliar surroundings. He looked around in a brief panic and then saw Clara with her bright wings draped over her almost like cocoon, still sound asleep. His eyes began to dart around Clara's small living space it was cluttered but not unclean. A few boxes still remained from when she moved in, there were vanilla folders everywhere with documents bursting out of them, the contents of which he couldn't tell at the moment. He tried to move in order to wake Clara, but the sudden sensation of having bruised ribs forced him back onto the couch. His eyes began to wander back to Clara. She was wearing worn blue jeans and green tank top that allowed her wings to stand out freely. He was still staring at Clara when she finally awoke.

"Are you okay? You shouldn't be moving."

"I'll be fine, were you up with me all night?"

"Well, I tried but sleep and a soft cushion got the better of me. Here, that bandage on your head needs changing already." She walked towards the couch to unwrap some of the dirty wrappings. Kurt flinched and pushed her hand away.

"I didn't need your pity then, I don't need it now."

Clara seethed, "When have I ever pitied you? All I've done is try to help, not because I feel sorry for you, but for some reason I care what happens to you. Though it seems you're like everyone else, too good to accept my aid." Clara turned and walked quickly out of the room, her face turning various shades of red.

Kurt continued to lie on the couch, not only because he couldn't move, but also since Clara's words put extra weight on his chest.

Clara went into the kitchen and began hacking away at the potatoes she set out for dinner. Once a dozen or so were chopped into tiny and uneven pieces she brushed them into a pot to boil. Next she attacked the celery and saved the onions for last. Whether it was the onions taking revenge for harsh treatment or the fact she might be loosing the only person that has stuck around long enough to ask for her name her eyes blurred so she couldn't the white counter. She washed her hands and rinsed out her eyes, frustrated that she had been crying so much over someone that was just going leave her again.

About an hour passed and the potato soup was bubbling and filling the tiny kitchen with a delightful smell. Clara placed two plastic bowls on the coffee table just across from Kurt, who had managed to prop himself up on one of the larger blue pillows. He peered over at the bowl placed in front of him and then back at Clara.

"It is soup it won't kill you I promise. Though, you don't have to take it if you still consider it to be some form of pity."

Kurt took as deep a breath as his bruised ribs would allow and said, "I'm sorry, you've done nothing but try and help. I will try and be more… cooperative."

Clara sighed and said evenly, "I won't force you to accept my help if you're uncomfortable with the idea."

"Everyone needs help everyone once in a while I'm just not used to receiving it." Kurt picked up his bowl of soup and slowly started eating with his free hand.

After a quiet dinner Clara turned the coffee table into a first aid facility to help her reluctant patient. Kurt was genuinely more cooperative as he promised and even gave thanks for the soup.

"How is it that you have so many different bandages and wrappings?" Kurt said with his thick German accent slowly returning with his strength.

"Flying doesn't always go as smoothly as I intend, so I have to be prepared for when it does go really wrong."

"I thought angels took naturally to their wings."

"You're forgetting again that I'm not an angel. More like a baby bird that was pushed out of the nest the moment it was born."

"I did not mean to out step my bounds

"Don't worry, its getting late anyway," she said looking at her watch, "Let me know if you need anything, no matter what time it is."

"I will do that, thank you. I will see you in the morning."

Clara smiled and walked into her box-like bed room. At least there would be one more day with him, she thought. There may be hope out there yet, just a little bit anyway. She fell asleep to the sound of Kurt reciting an old evening prayer and the predictable clinking of prayer beads.


	3. Angel's Flight

The cold night air blew through an open window, and mustering up the effort to close it from outside warm covers seemed almost impossible. One foot at a time Clara climbed out of bed and pulled the old window shut. She turned to go back to bed but decided to see if the couch was still occupied. She opened the door slowly for fear of discovering what she already knew in her heart. The couch was empty except for a couple folded blankets and a neatly fluffed pillow. Clara ran back to her room for a shawl and sprinted outside to get the wind under her wings. After gaining some momentum her wings spread out in all their glory against the night sky. Nothing was up there to hurt or leave her, just the stars and a sense that everything would turn out for the best. The town looked peaceful in the dark, the tiny houses and stores shown in the moonlight. She flew for what seemed like hours, around the forest and swooping over the lake chasing the moonlight.

The wind began to blow harder making it harder for Clara to fly straight and safely. Her fingers were purple and by this time she had lost all feeling in her toes. Clara kept on flying not noticing any of the changes in weather. Her mind was far away from everything, even her own heart. _I am stupid. Though sometimes there is something in hoping, for anything. I knew he wouldn't stay, but I'm still glad to have met him. Finally someone besides the mail carrier and the landlord get within 100 feet of me. Now I just need… well I don't know what I need to do, but something will work out. _

In the midst of her thought process, a gale force wind was caught under her wings; before she could react the wind had carried her cold and numb body into a pine tree. The impact made Clara feel like her eyes were going to leap out of their sockets and her head to roll on to the ground. She carefully slid the rest of the way down. Once on the ground she tried to shake some of the sticky needles from her wings. This motion only ended in pain. Clara let out a small scream, and then she bit her hand to stop anyone from hearing. After the pain subsided into a low throbbing, she looked around through a small clearing and saw the thrift store that was only a half mile from her home. 'Alright I can make it form here.' She said to herself. Walking was tougher than she thought, especially without shoes on. By the time her house was in view, her feet were cracked, blistered and bleeding. The porch swing was going faster than usual, too fast for it to be the wind. Sitting on the swing was a blue figure tapping two fingers on the arm rest. As soon as he saw her, he ran to help her back to the house.

"Where did you go? You shouldn't go running off like that."

Clara used what strength to push him away, "I'm not the one who keeps running away. You're the one who disappeared in the middle of the night. I thought you had left for good."

"I thought I was going to. I couldn't leave without saying goodbye. Not after all the help you've given me."

Clara started to argue but instead fell back on the ground and groaned. Her once white wings were now dirty and covered in pine needles. Kurt rushed forward and gently lifted Clara's weak body off the ground and onto her bed. "Looks like it is my turn to help you," said Kurt trying his best to whisper. He quietly walked out of the room and found the cupboard where Clara kept her medical supplies. With a warm washcloth Kurt cleaned off the dirt and blood from Clara's face, hands, and feet. Even with dirt in her and sap I her wings, she looked like an angel.

"I'm sorry." Clara said half asleep.

"For what?" said Kurt.

"For keeping you here too long. I should not have insisted."

"It is nothing. Don't worry, you're lucky you're not more seriously injured." Kurt said while wrapping her feet with a soft bandage.

"You're worried about me aren't you?"

Kurt dropped the roll of gauze he was using and put everything back in the first aid box. "What is important now is that you get some rest. I'll be here in the morning to help you get the needles out of your wings." With that he closed the door and left Clara to come to her conclusions.

Kurt went outside and sat on the steps. The stars still shone brightly and the curve of the moon reflected in his bright yellow eyes. "Worried? Is that all you feel for her?" he said to himself. "Even if you did, she would never return those feelings. She's just tired of being cut off from everyone." He pulled a strand of white prayer beads from his pocket and ran the smooth strand between two of his three fingers. His prayers did bring some comfort but something lead him to believe that he would have to pray for more than just comfort to figure out what was happening. How is it possible to go from being the 'thing' or 'demon' that no one understands and everyone is afraid of to being welcomed into the arms of an angel. Surely God has a plan for all this, and surely… well nothing is for certain.

Walking back into the house he heard some light snoring coming from Clara's bedroom. Kurt smiled and unfolded the blankets on the couch and lay down on his back. It had to be more than just mere concern. With that thought he closed his eyes and drifted off.


	4. An Angel's Confession

Clara woke up to the sun blaring into her bedroom window. Every joint in her body was locked in place. Her clock read 1:00 pm. She shut her eyes again. Clocks have been wrong before. The smell of fresh coffee coming from the kitchen let her know it just might be worth it to get out of bed today. The trudge to the bathroom was harder than expected. Even worse was looking in the mirror. Her feathers were ruffled and her hair resembled something she might find while cleaning out the gutter. At first glance, her cloths looked as if she had been digging a hole.

Clara threw her cloths into the hamper and stepped into a hot shower. Twenty minutes and half a bar of soap later she resembled herself again, rather than a confused chicken. She still felt as if the kitchen should be empty and the couch tidy with no one on its cushions. She turned the brass knob of her bedroom door and walked out into the kitchen. Clara was stunned. Kurt was frying eggs, making toast and orange juice all at the same time. With his left hand he buttered toast while he flipped eggs with his right and his tail stirred a pitcher with a long wooden spoon.

"Is there anything you can't do?" said Clara with her mouth hanging open.

Kurt looked up from his cooking and dropped a piece of toast on the floor. "You're up. I didn't know what you wanted for breakfast so I just made my favorite. How do you feel?"

"Like a tree made a very strong impact with my head, but otherwise okay. How are you? It wasn't that long ago I brought you here bruised."

"My sides are still sore but I find its best to focus my mind on something more productive than feeling sorry for myself."

"I agree and on that note I'll set the table."

Kurt stopped what he was doing and helped Clara to a chair at the kitchen table. "Just rest, you need it after last night."

She started to protest but decided to save her energy for later. She looked down at her tempting breakfast and broke the yolk on one of the eggs then stopped. Clara pulled a small leather book out of her pocket. She held up the book and said, "Do you mind?"

"Not at all a little prayer before a meal is good for reflection."

Clara cleared her throat and began, "Come, Lord Jesus be our guest and let these gifts to us be blessed. Amen."

Kurt continued with, "Komm, Herr Jesus sei unser Gast und segne alles was Du uns besheret hast. Amen." Just as he finished a loud clanging noise came from outside. He turned just in time to see a stout and balding man running away from Clara's mail box frantically scrubbing his hands with a wet cloth.

Clara groaned and stared down at her breakfast. She shoved a mouthful of eggs into her mouth. Kurt waited for an explanation.

"That was my landlord, he's afraid of me like everyone else I've ever met."

"But why was he scrubbing his hands with such intensity."

"Like a lot of people here they believe my mutation is some sort of disease and they'll catch it if they get to close to me or anything I touch."

Kurt sat in silence for a moment, unsure of what to say next. "I'm sitting right across from you and haven't caught anything. And as for fear, well I'd be a fool to runaway from someone who was kind enough to save my life with no knowledge of me other than my name and the color of my eyes."

Clara dropped her fork and sighed. "I'm sorry. I haven't even been out of bed for an hour and I'm already complaining. I'm just not used to having someone to complain to."

Kurt laughed under his breath, "I can tell, but I'm happy to listen. I've gotten pretty good at it over the years."

Clara just sat back and stared for a moment with her forehead creased. "I used to be so afraid of talking about my mutation, and at the same time doing everything I could to hide it from other people, even my parents. With you I don't feel the need to hide anything."

More time passed in a comfortable silence. Breakfast was finished and the table cleaned without a sound. With some reluctance Clara sat on the couch the entire time. After the dishes were finished Kurt teleported in a waft of blue smoke just a cushion away.

Clara looked over in astonishment. "You can teleport, climb walls, and make breakfast. Is there anything else you can do?"

Kurt looked over at her with a widening smile, "I do have another more special ability."

"And what's that?"

"If you rub my stomach my leg shakes uncontrollably and I can't stop laughing."

"You've got to be kidding me."

"No really try it, it might cheer you up."

Clara reached over cautiously and gently rubbed the belly of her strange visitor. Sure enough Kurt's foot tapped the floor with increasing intensity as Clara sped up her movements. Kurt's laughter grew so loud Clara had to laugh as well.

"See there's the smile I knew was buried under all that hostility."

"You're the blue puppy I never had. Do I get to keep you?"

"Keep me?"

"It's something little kids say when they find a stray dog or cat on the road and ask if it can stay in the house."

Kurt paused for a moment as if thinking whether his status as stray was a good thing or a bad thing. "Well I suppose you are like a child."

Clara stopped smiling, "Oh really how's that?"

"I meant it as a compliment. Let's see how I can explain… you must have liked the look of me to have trusted me… too many people don't trust each other… I don't know if I'm making any sense."

"I'm not sure if you are either, but it sounded nice."

The two continued talking late into the evening. Some stars were beginning to appear in the sky. The night air was cool again and Clara had a large blanket wrapped around her dirty wings. She looked at the clock on the wall.

"Its nine o'clock, most people will be at home now and the chapel will be empty. I'd like to have some prayer time if you don't mind."

"Of course, would you mind if I came with you?"

Clara shook her head and Kurt helped her toward the door. The road to the chapel was indeed deserted, as they made their way toward the old stone building. The colorful windows were bright in the moonlight. The window that Clara normally flew through was repaired and locked tightly. Clara sighed it wasn't like she could fly right now anyway.

Kurt grabbed her hand and walked her up to the door. "Do you trust me?"

Clara took a deep breath and wrapped her arms around Kurt and they both were transported into the tranquil boundaries of the church.


	5. A Demon's Embrace

The light didn't come through the curtains that morning. Rain pelted the ground to wash away the dust. Rainy days always made Clara wish for the sun more than on days it was actually out. She sat on her bed with a piece of jelly toast and worn out book. Every once in a while she would look at the sofa to see if Kurt was awake. Mornings were easier with someone to keep house warm. Having someone who didn't think she was a fool for believing God made life a little fuller.

Kurt finally stirred and turned to look at Clara. "Is the coffee still warm?"

"Good morning to you too, and yes the coffee is still warm."

"I'm sorry. I guess I've gotten used to things here. How are your wings?"

Clara stretched her wings into an arch to show their clean white surface. "Better than a couple weeks ago, but if I…ugh… stretch them too far. I'm not quite ready to fly yet."

Kurt stretched his way of the couch, and walked into the kitchen. _She has gotten a lot better. She looks more beautiful than the first time I saw her in the chapel. What am I saying? I sound like a romance novel, or a fairy tale. _ "It is good to see that you are recovering so quickly."

_Too quickly if it means I'll never see you again. _"Yeah, being able to walk without any pain has its perks."

Kurt poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down on Clara's bed. "I'm still not sure why you flew off in the first place."

"Me neither, its just that flying has always been my release from everything. Maybe if I can't touch the earth I'm not attached to it anymore."

_Even the way she speaks has a certain charm. There you go again, stop talking like the brothers Grimm. _"That's an interesting way of looking at the world. Though I can't say I haven't thought about running away every once in a while."

"But running away would be too easy. Mama taught me that."

"Mama? I thought you…"

"I say mother, but not in the biological sense. I use the word mama for the person who treated me like her child."

Kurt sighed and smiled. "That I can understand a little. I feel a stronger emotional connection with my adoptive mother than anyone I'm biologically related to."

"Like how I feel a connection to you." Clara covered her mouth, but the words were already wavering.

Kurt got off the bed and walked toward the door. "I think I should leave tonight, after the rain stops."

Clara took a deep breath and wiped her eyes. "At least go to the evening prayer service with me. It's no use traveling without a clear head."

"I guess it couldn't hurt."

The day passed in silence. Clara and Kurt managed to avoid each other in Clara's small white house. The time for evening mass arrived slowly as the rain continued to pour. Kurt knocked gently on Clara's bedroom door. "Are you ready to leave?"

Clara walked out her room wearing a heavy white dress and a brown coat to cover her wings. They walked quickly through the rain over to the rear entrance of the chapel. Kurt wrapped his strong dark blue arms around Clara and teleported them into the upper loft. They found their usual pews and listened to the organ. The priest was old, but his soothing voice carried through the rafters.

"I am here to speak of humanity. We are all human no matter what genetics dictates, all of us are the children of God."

Clara said a silent prayer. _May those words you speak become actions so that every mutant and human can worship. Also thank you for bringing Kurt into my life, he'll never know how much he means to me. _

The mass drew to a close and Clara knew it was time to sat goodbye. She gave Kurt one last embrace, and asked "Why are you leaving?"

"You know why. I can't rely on your kindness any longer than I already have. I also have other things I need to attend to."

_Or you're just afraid. _"I understand. Here is a sandwich for the road. It's no good to start a trip on an empty stomach." Clara handed him a brown paper bag. _I can't cry, I won't cry._

"Good bye, Clara." Kurt stuffed the bag under his coat and walked toward the bus station. _Things are better this way. She is better off without a demon causing her problems. I must believe that. _The bus screeched up to the small glass booth on the corner. Kurt found a seat in the back of the bus a few rows behind the only other passenger. Looking around the dismal bus Kurt opened the paper bag. There were three sandwiches and a white envelope attached to the top sandwich. Inside was a letter written on cheap stationary. Kurt read the letter slowly the first time, then two or three others just to make sure Clara's handwriting was real.

"I've got to get off this bus," Kurt declared.

The sleeping passenger woke, and holding his own brown bag said, "Me too man, this bus is too…" He turned around and vomited on the floor.

Just a few miles behind the bus, Clara was sitting on her couch and staring at the coffee table. She didn't hear the popping noise, but noticed the blue smoke drift across the floor. Without turning around she said, "I can't do that again."

"I can fix that problem."

"Really? How?"

_I'm not sure what happened on that bus, but it lead in the right direction. I know nothing about love but… _ "I want to be with you."

Clara walked over to Kurt and stood close to him for a few minutes. Kurt wrapped his arms around waist just under wings. "I want to be with you." He repeated.

Clara sunk into his chest and breathed. "Then I guess we'll be together."


	6. Fire in Heaven

Time stopped and for moment she couldn't breathe. The soles of her feet sunk into the cheap wooden floor. Clara felt Kurt's warmth and was lifted into the air with wings other than her own. She kept her eyes shut and gripped onto what she was sure was her imagination. She opened one eye and saw a dark blue line. She breathed and opened the other one. The solid blue column of Kurt's neck formed. Clara gradually raised her neck and saw his brilliant yellow eyes with relief behind them.

"We'll be together then."

"I'll never leave you again."

Clara's thoughts swam in this wonderful forever. In his arms forever, and never alone again. She blinked and everything came into focus. There was never going to be a forever, asking that would be unfair to Kurt. Now would have to be enough. This treasured moment was more than she could ever ask for. They would be together as long as the wanted. God kept her together, but having someone on earth for support was a nice change.

"Never is quite a long time, or short depending on you look at it."

"How does it look now?"

Clara took a step back and looked Kurt up and down. "Looks pretty good. Though I'd say it needs a bath."

"Are you saying I smell?" Kurt stopped and smelled his own arm. "I guess your right. There was a man on the bus with a brown bag, and a bad stomach."

"Ewww… say no more." Clara reached into the closet and handed Kurt a towel.

Kurt gave Clara a hopeful look.

"Keep that optimism going."

Kurt smiled and Clara urged him toward the shower. While Kurt was cleaning off the stench of the bus drunk Clara sat on the couch and laughed. She picked up one of the home decorating magazines from her coffee table. All the homes she had dreamed up for herself contained in glossy pages. _I'll have my home someday. For now home will be wherever Kurt and I are. _Most of the magazines were dogged eared or tabbed with sticky notes. Her eyes rested on a picture of a log cabin with a woman and a dog resting on a large couch covered with pillows. The walls had family photos and paintings above a fireplace. _Now that is a real home. _

Kurt stared in the bathroom mirror. His hair looked almost pitch black while it was still wet. He smelled his arm again. The rank odor of the drunk man on the bus was replaced by the scent of passion fruit. His jacket would need to be washed. Kurt did not even want to venture a guess as to the contents of the yellow stain on the back. _I made the right decision getting off that bus. And not just because of the stain. I need Clara now as much as she needs me. I'll have to tell her though. _Kurt turned toward the bathroom door. Clara was smiling over one of magazines from the coffee table.

"Home Décor? I thought you would be deep in prayer and meditation by now."

Clara turned around and held up the picture of the log cabin. "Maybe not, but look at this living room."

"It looks nice… though I don't know anything about decorating."

"That's okay neither do I. They're just fun to look at."

Kurt climbed over the back of the couch and put his arm around Clara. "You have so many. You could decorate several houses with this much material."

Clara leaned into Kurt and traced her finger across the page. "Haven't you ever wanted a home?"

"Well that depends on your definition of home. I don't know about decorative pillows or throw rugs in the shape of fish. Any place where I can sleep without the fear of persecution is home enough for me."

"Hmm, not even a couple pillows?"

Kurt looked closer at the magazine. "Maybe one of those quilts instead."

"Those are nice too I suppose."

Clara sighed and flipped through the pages. "By your definition this is far from a real home."

"I don't know, a couple quilted blankets and maybe some pictures…"

"You know what I mean. Everyone here treats me like I leprosy. As long as I go into town when other people don't and stay away from 'good people' I'm tolerated."

Kurt sighed, "That's true, but not all people hate us."

"I find that hard to believe. All those folders are the documents of the six different homes I've had in the past five years. I haven't had a home since my parents noticed my wings."

Kurt started to say something then stopped. Here was a person that met nothing but intolerance by being a mutant. It would take more than simple words to convince of something beyond her experience. "Give me a chance to prove that there is tolerance out there. I've met good people who aren't mutants and see something beyond wings and a pointed tail."

Clara closed her magazine and stared at Kurt. _Is he joking? What does he intend to prove? Still, when he says it… everything seems possible. _"What do you mean?"

"I mean that there are good people out there. You've just had a poor sampling of humanity. I want you to meet the people I've gotten to know."

_It's worse than I thought… he's actually serious. _"I'll have to think about it. That's a pretty big decision."

"I know, but please consider it."

Clara yawned, despite the decisions that lay before her it was still 2am and she still had not slept. "I'll sleep on it."

Kurt sighed. "Tough but fair."

Clara stumbled over to one of her closets and pulled out a white quilt with pink bunnies sewn along the edges. "You're favorite."

Kurt smiled and said, "Yes, just like a home."

"Goodnight."

Clara crawled into her bed and stared at the ceiling. _I have Kurt with me, and now I'm not sure I can leave this tattered place. God send me a sign. _

_I hope Clara decides to take a journey. The world needs kindness like hers. And yes…. So do I. _

A cool breeze blew through the curtains and they could hear the bats swooping to get insects outside. There were no stars but the moon still shown across the gravel road making a clear path. A rusty van with bright headlights and broken fender whirred and chugged its way to Clara's front porch. An older man leaned out of the driver's side with a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. A younger, dirty man with a brown bag climbed out of the passenger seat. He reached onto the van's dashboard and pulled out two tins of lighter's fluid.

"This will teach those freaks to mess with good people."

"Yeah it will. It will teach them to take the buses like normal people too." Said the older man.

The younger man smiled and started to spray the foul smelling liquid onto the porch. When the container was empty he climbed back into the truck next to the other man. He took the lighter and threw it at the porch, and watched the structure burst into flame.


	7. Ashes to Ashes

**Squish**

"**So that's what it feels like."**

"**Yes, I'm afraid so."**

"**But we will make it right?"**

"**Yes, God willing."**

"**Neither one of us can know God's will for sure."**

Two figures stood on a charred lawn and a half burnt house. They were too late to stop the flames. Kurt jolted awake and smelled the burning paint from the living room his eyes watered and he wasn't able to stop coughing. Running to Clara's room Kurt wrapped her in her quilt and brought them both outside. Clara awoke from the cold night air. She pushed Kurt away in confusion and saw her burning home. She took a few steps forward and stared at the flames. She dropped to her knees onto the burnt grass and let her arms go limp.

"There's nothing left for me here. They burnt it all away." Her eyes were blood shot from tears that wouldn't come.

"It was probably an accident in…"

"Shut up! Don't you know anything? All you talk about it how there is good in people. Well look at my burning home, there's your good and your…" Clara started coughing into her dirt-covered hand.

"You're right. I'm sorry, but I'm not letting you give up."

"Take your hands off your eyes and try to see for once!"

"I see someone who has lost more homes than she can remember anymore. I see someone that despite everything in her life still let a blind demon into her life with the hope of finding a new one."

_Why does he say these things? How is it that despite being a mutant he still has hope? Everything he says is stupid and naive. Despite all my experiences I still want to believe him. Normally this would be another reason to doubt. Somehow when he says it I see a light that just might lead me in the right direction. Maybe God has answered my prayers. _

Clara pulled herself up from the ground and dragged her unwilling legs over to Kurt. She put her head on Kurt's blue chest and listened to the sounds inside. His heartbeat was steady, maybe he was telling the truth.

"Do you trust me?"

Clara nodded without lifting up her head. "I have nothing here. Where do we run away to now?"

"We'll try not to look at it as running away. We should start out soon before the fire department arrives."

"Is there still a place for us somewhere?"

Kurt smiled. "We're not as alone as you think."

"I've always felt that there were other mutants out there. I guess I'll find out for sure."

"You will, no matter how far I have to drag you. I'm never going to let you give up."

Clara turned away from Kurt and looked at her burning house. By now there was even smoke coming from the garden behind the house. There would be other gardens, other porches, other towns, but this would be the first time she would find all those things with company. Clara turned away from the house for the last time. She stretched her wings and let the orange light from the flames dance across them.

"Where are we going?"

"To a parish, and towards sanctuary. We'll have to go to the bus station in the next town since we are now unwelcome here."

"How far is it?"

"Flying, only about 10 miles. I'll follow you from the ground, and stop about every few miles to make sure we're still following each other."

"Okay." Clara ran until the wind caught underneath her wings and she rose off the ground. Flapping her tired wings she gained altitude and rose above the treetops. Even from just a hundred feet above ground the town looked peaceful. The houses were dark and nothing was moving except for the occasional puffs of blue smoke. Being happy there just wasn't meant to be. Their journey passed without any retaliation or interference from anyone outside their world.

"I hope she makes it. She has to come through this tragedy," said to himself "she could have a life better than anything she's known so far. I meant what I said when I told her I'd be there for her." The bus stop just off the highway came into view. Kurt was thankful that there is never a lot of traffic at three in the morning.

Clara landed near the clear plastic shelter. She pulled the blanket tightly over her wings and stood up straight. "Is this it?"

"Well this is the stop we're looking for. This bus should take us the parish where we'll be safe."

The word sunk in, "Safe. I'd like that for a change."

"God willing."


	8. Grey Hound to Heaven

The number 70 night bus pulled up to a stop that should have been deserted at 4am on a Wednesday morning. After all, no one in their right minds traveled at 4am unless they had to. Instead of what should have been, Clara's house was in ashes and she and Kurt were waiting because they had to. The bus driver noticed the two figures that should not have been there, just as houses should not burn down in the middle of the night.

The bus stopped like it should, despite the above circumstances. The bus driver pulled the bending door open for the pair. He blinked like a deer watching on coming headlights. A voice spoke.

"Huh? What?"

"How much is the fare?" said the girl in a long coat.

"Oh right… dollar fifty to get to the greyhound station and two anywhere beyond that." He relayed the information as if he hadn't been driving a bus for twenty years.

"Thank you." She said. The figure behind her slipped from the shadows and placed some change in her hand.

The change made a small sound that echoed in the empty bus. The pair sat down towards the back of the bus. They crumbled into their seats and looked at each other. Clara gripped Kurt's arm, and laid her head on his shoulder. The slow and steady vibration of the bus lulled Clara into a light sleep.

The windows of the bus blared with the noise of street lights. Tacky billboards advertising love, sex, and a brighter smile littered the highway. It wasn't much, but at least they were away from any immediate danger. At least this time there was no one to throw up in the aisle.

"Greyhound station," announced the driver.

Clara jolted awake and rubbed her eyes. "Where are we?"

"The greyhound station, from here we can take a bus all the way to Chicago."

"Why Chicago?"

"Because there are so many people there no one will notice a couple more mutants."

"And?"

Kurt wrinkled his forehead. How did she know there would be an 'and'? "And… there's someone I want you to meet."

Clara glared at him. "Who?"

"A friend and someone who will help us out."

Oh goody. After all these years living by myself I meet someone that wants me to make new friends. "Why didn't you mention your friend before?"

"Because we were trying to escape from a dangerous situation, and I guess that seemed more important at the time."

"I'm not sure I want to meet anyone right now."

"I know, you have every reason to retreat from the world and never speak to it again, but you've trusted me this far I need you trust me again."

Trying to protest with Kurt was slowly becoming more and more fruitless. She hated to admit it, but she trusted him. Trusting any human was a new feeling, yet Clara felt as if God was guiding her toward something. Treat others as I want to be treated. Right. "You're right; I have no reason to doubt you."

Kurt's thoughts were mixing. He had experienced trust before but nothing like this. Clara gave her future to God and trusted that he would do his best to lead her in the right direction. "I'll do my best not to disappoint you."

"That's the best thing you've said today."

He looked down at Clara's attempt to smile. Her skin and lips were pale from lack of sleep, but her eyes blared with determination. It was looks like that when he wanted to give her the world. But would she accept his offer? It wasn't the time to think about that.

"Would you go up to the ticket window? There should be a bus coming at 6:30."

"Okay, I'll be back in a few minutes." Clara tightened the belt around her coat and checked all the buttons before talking to the ticket officer.

"What can I get for you darling?" said the woman behind the screen.

"Two tickets for the six thirty to Chicago." Clara said into coat collar.

"Alrighty, that'll be the next train leaving from gate three, it's running early this morning so it should be here within the hour."

"Thank you Miss."

The woman leaned back in her chair laughed. "Miss, aren't you one for making an old lady blush. Here are you tickets sweetheart."

Clara grabbed the tickets and stalked through the empty train station. She stopped at the sight of vending machine with all the basic food groups, sugar, riboflavin, glucose syrup, and yellow dye number six.

"Ah, all my favorites… I suppose they don't usually have real food at train stations."

"What are you talking about? This is real food," said Clara pointing to a bag of Doritos, "It says made with real cheese."

Kurt chuckled from underneath his hood. "A hearty meal for the journey ahead I suppose."

"It's just fuel for the road. The bus needs gas and so do we."

Kurt looked doubtfully at the variety of colored packets. "I think this meal needs a good prayer."

"Oh come on no one has ever died from one meal of candy and sugar."

The loud speaker announced the arrival of their bus at one of the main gates. Clara froze as if everything about her situation came rushing back to her. Kurt put a hand on her shoulder. "I know you can do this."

Clara shook her head, "I know **we **can do this."


	9. Apples and Peaches

The bus smelled of soap and body odor. In ordinary circumstances the two would have canceled each other out, but as reminder there are no normal situations. As predicted there was hardly anyone on the bus, and those that were kept to themselves. A hooded figure snored steadily on the shoulder of a girl with long tangled hair. Clara kept herself awake with Cosmo and a large bag of cheese and onion chips.

"Over a million ways to loose weight, have sex, and not single one that tells me what to do with a guy who saves you from a burning house." There was also no advice about any of what she was experiencing. Somehow a girl's guide to waxing at home wasn't going to cut it. He looked over at Kurt, his mouth hanging open slightly. If anyone deserved a long nap it was the sleeping savior beside her. "There I go again, some sort of fantasy."

Kurt smiled slightly in his sleep. _I'm in a garden the sweet scent of fresh, heavy, rain lingered in the air. I'm walking towards a river with red apples drifting across the surface, and I bend over to pick one up. A pair of wings appears behind me. "I wouldn't eat that if I was you." The voice smells like peaches. "You've saved me."_

"Kurt, time to wake up."

"What?"

"It's time to wake up, we're at the last rest stop for a while."

"Oh, I must have fallen asleep."

"I thought you were going to start hibernating for a while, but no one deserves a rest more than you."

"I'm glad you think I worked hard enough for hibernation."

"Okay, Rip Van Winkle, I'll be right back."

_That was odd, even for me. Why can't I ever dream about something normal? I could almost smell the peaches though. It had a good feel to it._

Clara awkwardly adjusted the straps that kept her wings underneath coat. They looked cramped because they were, but at least she was safe. Safe in hiding and safe with Kurt. She fiddled with the lock to the stall in the women's restroom, it was always easier to lock the damn things than it was opening them again.

A pair of pink glossy shoes appeared under the door. "Just wriggle the handle sissy."

"I wonder how much wriggling I can do before it won't wriggle anymore."

"No such thing." Said the voice on the other side. The door popped open and someone stood on the other side. She was popping gum and smiling.

"Thank you, I needed that."

"I think I did too," she said "Though for now what you need is a hair brush."

Clara was about to object then looked in the bathroom mirror. She handed Clara her brush and laughed. "My name is Jane by the way, nothing exciting but it's attached to a lot."

"Mine is Clara." She volunteered

"Oh, very pretty. Where are you headed?"

Clara paused for moment. "To visit a friend." She gave the brush back to Jane. "Thank you, it's nice to meet a fellow friend."

"Always nice to meet a new acquaintance. How about a little snack for the road?"

Clara made it back to the bus with just a few minutes to spare, and carrying a paper bag. Kurt had managed to stay awake while waiting for her return but soon looked weary again. Just as the bus engine started Clara waved out the window.

"Who are you waving at?" Kurt said with a mixture of surprise and concern.

"Her name's Jane I met her in the women's bathroom."

Kurt squinted out the window. "She looks very nice in pink, but the Adams apple clashes."

Clara turned and looked at Kurt, "No more than pointy ears clash with a pointy tail."

Kurt looked at the reflection his yellow eyes made against the window. "I guess we're all just trying to be who we are."

"Even if the world fights us every inch of the way. We are exactly who we should be, and they can't take that away from us."

"You sound pretty determined."

"I guess all it took was a little kindness, and although I've experienced the worst of what humans are capable of, I've had someone show me the best."

Strangely not long ago words like that would have caused uncertainty now Kurt welcomed honest words of praise. "Thank you. And hopefully I'll be able to show you other people just as kind."

_Just you is enough. _"Me too."

"I'll keep my promise to you, not matter what."

"I expect nothing less, but I wouldn't be offended if you decided to go back to sleep."

"I think I've slept enough for now. Do we have any more food left?"

Clara rummaged through her bags. "Just a couple packets of chips, but now I have something better."

"Better than yellow dye number six?"

"I know it's hard to imagine, but Jane gave them to me." Clara reached into her paper bag and pulled out a fuzzy orange peach. "For some reason peaches sounded really good."

Kurt couldn't think of words for a moment, "What a wonderful gift."

Clara smiled and held up the peach. "A prayer for happy journeys and happy endings."

Kurt held a peach up to his nose and breathed deeply. His dream came flooding back to him and the smell of the peach seemed to fill the entire bus. His body was light and the air was sticky and sweet.

"Are you okay?"

"I think so. It's just been a long time since I've eaten a peach."

"You really spaced out for a minute there."

"I guess I did, but it was a good place to be in."

"Really? Maybe next time you'll take me with you."

"I think we're on a pretty interesting journey already." Clara pulled out the bus schedule and traced her finger along the lines of the graph. "We should be at our first stop in about an hour." She turned her head to see Kurt had already closed his eyes and pulled his down to keep the sun out of his eyes. Clara put the map away and turned back to her Cosmo. The next hour passed slowly, and Clara thought about whom Kurt wanted her to meet. She knew if Kurt trusted this person she would have to as well. If she was going to learn to trust anyone else she must. When the bus station came into view Kurt woke up to the sounds of a bustling city. He noticed Clara gripping the arms of her seat for dear life.

"It's going to be fine. Everything will be fine. The place I'm taking you is just a short walk from the station."

Clara said nothing but watched the doors to the bus open into the unknown. _Well here it is, my future, for better or worse through heaven or hell. I'm making something new. _


	10. The Pearly Gates

The gritty cement platform has the classic sleek oil platform that says unless you watch where you're going there's going to be nothing but shit to step through from here on out. If you walk further into the waiting area the neon welcome sign calls you into the unknown. Clara left the gate with sense that road to hell was paved with something like this. A warm hand clutching hers said at least she wouldn't be alone.

They stepped out into the haze of the afternoon. A grey overcast ushered them into the busy streets. Cars rushed passed and suits with cell phones whisked by with the speed of traffic. Clara tightly wound herself around Kurt's arm like a child lost in a crowded shopping mall.

"It's going to be okay, we're almost there."

Clara's eyes widened. "There are so many people. Everything here is so big."

"I suppose there is no point telling you not to worry. In this crowd no one will notice us."

Kurt urged her forward with an urgent tug on her sleeve. Clara's legs dragged along the sidewalk at the pace of frozen syrup.

"Are you sure? I mean anything could astray in the end…"

"We've made it this far I'm sure we can handle anything that might come up between here and the next few blocks."

"What if we can't?"

"Well it…" Kurt sighed, "We'll deal with whatever comes our way."

"You won't leave me right?"

"Never, not if Elvis himself came out of his grave and asked me."

"That's a relief." Clara paused "Who's Elvis?"

Kurt tried to repress his laughter. "I'll tell you later."

Clara glared at him with uncertainty but kept a firm grip on his arm. She walked following his walking pattern as close as she could. Kurt seemed so certain and so determined that everything would work out for the best.

"I had no idea a space could be this big."

"It is easier to hide in a big space, believe it or not."

"I believe it. Its hard hiding in small town, but at least there are less people who hate you."

Kurt pondered her logic for a moment. Would she really be safer somewhere else? Could bringing Clara here be out of some selfish desire to perform a good deed? No. This was scary for both of them though he would tape his mouth shut before saying anything to scare her. "Everything will be fine."

"You keep on saying that."

"Only because I keep hoping you'll believe me."

"Its not you I don't believe. It's the rest of the world I find impossible."

Clara clung a little closer to Kurt if such a thing were possible. She was already dragging on him like a scared child clinging to a teddy bear. The suits had disappeared and the streets were getting smaller and darker. Clara felt like running, but Kurt's even pace kept her from acting on fear.

"We're almost there."

Clara slowly looked up from the ground and looked at the scaffolding over their heads. The wall next to them was made up of broken bricks and more solid areas of cement. If work was being done on the building they were doing a poor job usually you have to tear something to rebuild it. Clara didn't know much about construction but she guessed this was the general course of things.

"We're here." Kurt said simply and stopped walking.

Clara looked around them. They were still under the scaffolding. At first glance the building looked like all the other warehouses and abandoned buildings they had passed before. With a closer examination the sidewalk was swept, most of the graffiti was cleaned off, and there was an ashtray tucked into the doorway.

"What is it?" said Clara taking a step back from the door.

"This building is a lot of things for a lot of different people."

"What is it for you?"

Kurt smiled and said, "A place of peace."

"Sounds too good to be true."

"We'll find out together." Kurt raised his hand and knocked on the worn out door.

"We don't want any!" said a voice from inside.

Clara looked at Kurt with a raised eyebrow. "A place of peace huh?"

Kurt laughed softly and knocked again until a small panel on the door fell out. Behind the panel was small white button below a peephole. Kurt pressed the button and waited.

"Well," said the same voice again, " I think we can help you then."

The door rattled and swung into the entry way, letting a little day light inside.

"Well come on in."

"You first." Said Clara.


End file.
